


I didn't know I was lonely til I saw your face

by sharkinterviewee



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy POV, Art, Biting, Blow Jobs, Branding, Brown Eyes, Bruises, Bruising, Consensual Kink, Cunnilingus, Dance Metaphors, Dancing, Declarations Of Love, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, Eyes, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Get Together, Gratuitous Smut, In Love, Jake POV, Jamy, Jealousy, Kinky, Kissing, Love, Love Bites, Love Confessions, Marking, Metaphor, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, POV Alternating, PWP, Pain Kink, Peraltiago, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Rough Sex, Roughness, Scratching, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sub!Amy, Sub!Jake, Submission, Symbolism, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, back and forth, bad with words, both dom sub, confident!Amy, consensual pain, dancing metaphor, dom!Amy, dom!Jake, enough kinkiness for us to share, face - Freeform, fantasies, galaxy eyes, get off my back yo, goddamn me and my symbolism, hurt kink, it's like they switch okay?, kinky!All around, kinky!Amy, kinky!Both, kinky!Jake, needlessly explicit, possessive, rough and fluff, teasing of the sexual nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkinterviewee/pseuds/sharkinterviewee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake inadvertently lets Amy know how much he likes her smile, and then once he starts talking about everything he likes about her, he rambles way past the point of platonic intentions. And Amy lets him know exactly how she feels about him too... (needlessly explicit and kinky get together one shot).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I didn't know I was lonely til I saw your face

 By the end of the op, Amy was ready to go home and tear off all of her disguise. It wasn't much of a disguise, some more revealing clothes and over the top makeup, but it was so unlike her. Just a low dipped black dress that was several inches shorter than she would ever choose for herself and shimmering shades of green eye shadow paired with red lipstick that Gina had helped her with. It wasn't that she looked bad- Gina was actually good at the whole girly-girl sexual look and Amy actually didn't look half bad. It was just when she looked in the mirror she didn't recognize herself. Her reflection was more like a well dressed stranger than Amy Santiago. There were still bits of herself lying under it- behind the too big eyes accentuated with liner and the fake sultry smile she put on for the sting.

So by the end of the night, she was ready to go back to her boring old self and sleep for a very long time. Usually she would have gone back to the precinct and filled out the proper reports, but the captain took one look at her and told her to go home. Normally she would have refused, but something about that night drained her so she actually agreed to take his advice and just do the paperwork tomorrow. Since she hadn't planned heading home straight afterward she didn't even have her own transportation, but she knew someone who did. Someone she always wanted to see after a bad night, because he could always make her smile.

“How do I look?” She asked him tongue in cheek with a fake little half swirl. Sometimes they acted a little flirty with each other, but they both just chalked it up as part of their banter. The teasing was just how they were with each other, nothing more (if someone were to ask).

“Smokin'... but not really like you,” Jake said sounding serious for once. He was leaned up against his car and looked the same as always- which she was always grateful for. All casual and cool like he couldn't have a care in the world that night. He lost a lot of his impishness during stings because he knew that he needed to be serious in case something went wrong, so he was actually the most sincere she had ever seen him wrapping up an op. But he always had that little light smile on his face reserved especially for her.

To most people that would have sounded like an insult, but she knew him too well. Even when he was being sincere he wasn't the best with phrasing. But he got her too. That she liked being herself more than whatever character she was that night.

Before she had any hope of reacting he reached a hand up to her face and her eyes closed automatically. One of his fingers brushed across her eyelid a couple of times and left almost as soon as it appeared.

“Sorry. That was supposed to be a nice gesture, but all I did was mess up your make up.”

When she opened up her eyes there was a peculiar look on his face that she had no hope of deciphering.

“You want a ride, don't you? Taking advantage of my sweet wheels?” He asked with a smirk, all the strangeness replaced with their lighthearted teasing that they always fell back on if things got a little too serious.

“You know me so well.”

* * *

 

“Not to say you don't always look good- cause you do. It's just... regular Amy is the face I like,” Jake said a few minutes into the ride. The neon signs and street lamps provided an always changing light on his face, one that shifted with every second as they drove farther and farther. But it was always Jake, whether illuminated by blue or yellow light, and the shadows that drifted back and forth, by and past. Always Jake. He didn't need to tell her because she knew what he meant, and his gesture actually was sweet earlier, but she didn't say anything of the sort.

“You like my face?” Amy asked with a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Course I do. It's the best one around.”

“Really? The best?” She asked with the same tone. She was certain that this was going to end the same way anything romantic ended with Jake- him backing out with a joke. And she understood that, so she provided an out for him. She knew he felt something for her, but she never wanted to back him into a corner where he said something he didn't mean or committed to something he wasn't ready for. Of course she liked him, and wanted for something to happen between them, but she had faith that it would at the right moment. She just wasn't sure it was the right moment in the car.

That was what they'd come to. And Amy understood that, so she provided an out for him. They'd do the same dance every once in a while, getting so close but never close enough. She didn't want to force it, even though she liked him and he liked her. It always came down to this little dance, and until Jake decided to take the next step she had decided to wait. They would go through the pattern every time, back forward side side, but then he would falter and leave, and Amy was left standing there in a pretty dress with no partner to dance with. Until he would come back and try again, but it always ended the same way, with him leaving. And her waiting. Always waiting. So she would be standing there all done up swaying side to side until he would come back. The first few times she wasn't sure he would come back, so she would find another partner. None of them were as good of dancers, even though they did lead her through all of the steps. But then she figured out that Jake would always come back. So she would wait. Amy thought about taking lead all of the time, just holding tight to him so he couldn't bail whenever he made a mistake or forgot the pattern, but she had seen other girls with him do that and it never worked out right. She hoped that they were going to have a moment soon. Like Jake would make it one step further, and she could show him the rest of the moves, finish the pattern, or even let him stand on her toes. So she was waiting for that moment. Until then, she was always going to provide and out for him, because she was always waiting. She would wait for him.

“Yes,” Jake said, and she waited for a joke that never came. After a few moments of silence with her staring at him, he began again. “You were expecting to hear a mirror joke, weren't you?”

She nodded, not sure if he could even tell or not with peripheral vision.

“I thought about putting one in, but I decided this was too important. Your face is literally the best thing I see all day, every day. You're always at least 75% of why I get up every morning. So I can go to work and see you. You and your face. Even without your face, just you. Like if you had a different face, I wouldn't care. And even just talking to you on the phone or something, it doesn't make a difference cause I know it's you and you're amazing, so it's great waking up to have some form of you. Even if it's a text message. Which is officially my least favorite way of communicating with you, cause you have an amazing voice. And an amazing face, as I've already mentioned. And I'm sounding like an idiot so I'm gonna shut up now,” he finished with a weak chuckle that was more like huffs of breath. It was like one of his typical rambles but not quite. Usually when he got into nervous talking territory, he sped through it like his life depended on it, completely unplanned and unsure when to stop. What he just said was still clearly unplanned, but he was almost talking slow, taking his time as he strayed around his thoughts and words. He still didn't know when to stop, but more like a directionless drifting than a race to a finish line. Unlike his high pitched voice he used when he was beyond uncomfortable, it was soft and fluid, a dulcet tone that reverberated off of him. Until he caught himself at the end and tried to brush it all off, that is.

“Don't. Keep going,” Amy whispered, and hardly even at that. She was staring at her hands, watching the lights and shadows pass by on her lap instead of his face. The only way she knew that Jake heard her was the careful stare he sent her way, but she didn't dare meet his eyes.

“I like your smile,” he said suddenly. “It's a really good one. And I always want to do whatever I can to make you happy so I can see it. I know I do stupid stuff most of the time, but it doesn't even matter to me, cause it's all worth it if I make you smile. And I don't know when it happened. When it all changed. You've always had a pretty face, and that's all it was at first. But then it went from pretty face to Amy's face, and I thought that was it. But then all the other pretty faces went to not-Amy's-face. And I don't even remember when everything shifted. I have to remind myself to make eye contact with other people now because it doesn't even seem worth it if they're not yours. And I'm not even good with words, but it's worse because they're aren't a lot of things for brown. Like someone with blue eyes people say the sky or the ocean and green eyes they say emeralds, but there's nothing for brown. Nothing that does it justice, anyways. And I wish I could describe it to you because somehow you don't see yourself right, like how you really are, but I can never think of anything. I don't think there is anything- for the color of your eyes. There's nothing in existence that even comes close.” Jake sighed a deep shuddering breath that made her look up for the first time since he started speaking. His eyes were fixed straight ahead at the road, but from the intensity in them she was sure driving was the last thing on his mind. The words that came next seemed to be crafted from careful deliberation “But it's not what you look like. I don't even care about that. It's because you're you. When I see you-”

It wasn't until he motioned with his hand out the window after a lengthy pause that Amy even realized they weren't moving. And then she realized that they were actually parked right outside her apartment building. “Looks like this is your stop.”

“Walk me up?”

* * *

 

Jake had no clue what that invitation meant.

He knew what he wanted it to mean. That what he said meant something to her. That he meant something to her. He wanted her to say he wasn't alone in the can-barely-breathe-around-your-partner club. He wanted her to say it wasn't stupid how absolutely crazy he was about her.

Knowing Amy, it was much more like her to invite him in for coffee and thank him awkwardly for the compliments then try to return them halfheartedly than it was for something to actually happen between them. He hoped that she saw the subtexts in his comments, and maybe even felt the same way, but he wasn't counting on it. He knew it was wishful thinking. Still, he didn't refuse her request. He could never refuse her.

Jake didn't know what had come over him during that drive. Usually he was pretty good at reigning himself in. Sometimes this would happen. He would get blinded by her. By how amazing she was, and how much he wanted her, and he deluded himself into thinking that they could actually be a thing. But he always came to his senses before he ruined everything that they were. Because they were good together, how they were: partners and friends. It was stupid that he just wasn't satisfied with that. It was stupid that he wanted more. Of course Jake didn't stand a chance with her. He was a mess of a man, immature and emotionally stunted. And Santiago was perfect, or as close to it as any one person could be. She was careful and orderly while he was the very definition of chaos. Jake saw the kind of guys that she went home with- neat, proper, and consistent. The kind of guys who were never late and could at least tell her how much she meant to them.

The kinds of guys she invited into her life were nothing like him. The people she always gave the space he so desperately wanted to fill.

He wanted to hate them and insult them and call them boring, but they all had something he didn't have. Amy.

But Jake was afraid he went too far this time. It wasn't like he was exactly subtle with his stupid compliments of her stupid face that he loved. A part of him felt like running at that point. Most of him felt like running at that point. But he wanted to be able to face her tomorrow, so he walked her to her door.

The whole trip was made in silence, and he was regretting the sequence of events more and more with each and every step. When they reached her apartment he didn't know what to say. He didn't know if there was anything to say. And Amy didn't have any words for him either. When she twisted her keys into the lock he turned on his feet to make the long lonely journey back to his car.

Or at least he would have if he wasn't yanked into the dark of her apartment by the back of his shirt collar. It took him a moment to realize that he had, in fact, not suddenly gone blind. It took him longer to register that Amy was kissing him. _Amy_ was kissing _him_. Truthfully it all probably happened in less than two seconds, but they were the longest two seconds of his life.

Her hands were all over him and moving so fast that he wasn't sure if he was feeling where they were or where they were going to be. He could feel her everywhere. Her lips were insistent in their attempt to earn his reciprocation. What choice did he have but to give in?

He didn't even have to think about pulling her closer, just did it instinctively. It wasn't like he had any other option than trying to feel as much of her as possible. There was nothing else he could do other than kiss her back. Nothing he could do other than sigh when she scratched her nails down his scalp, and definitely nothing he could do other than welcome her when she took it as an opportunity to slip her tongue in with his.

“Your face is great too. Fuck, I love your face,” Amy confided in between kisses, and sometimes in the middle of ones. Her voice was low and sultry, and oddly laced with affection that he was all too pleased to hear. “And I wanna see it everyday, and I wanna see all the looks I never get to see on it. Like how you look when I suck you off, or when you're pounding into me. I want to see those faces. All the time.”

He was pinned against her door and the handle was digging into his back, but that was the least of his concerns. Amy grinded her hips into his erection as she kissed her way down his neck, and if he thought it was hard to breathe around her before, he was practically suffocating in that moment.

“Are you messing with me?” Jake choked out, and _fuck_ , he did not expect to sound that hoarse. It wasn't like Santiago to go this far with a joke, even if it was to get back at him. And he didn't remember doing anything particularly revenge worthy as of late. Definitely nothing worthy of this type of revenge. But he didn't know what else it could be.

“Of course not. I've been waiting so long for us to get here. So long for you to be ready for this. For us.”

He was still having trouble believing what was actually happening, but her saying that she wanted him- for awhile at that- and that she was holding back the whole time was just absurd. But it wasn't any use to pretend that this wasn't happening, so Jake just decided to roll with it- he chose to believe she was telling the truth.

“What are you talking about? I've always been ready for this,” Jake said in what was clearly an attempt at a steady voice, but it was harder than he thought it would be with her lips still on him.

“Any time we get close to this you get scared and run off.”

“Because I didn't know! How was I supposed to guess something as impossible as you liking me?!”

Jake could barely see her, but he knew she was staring at him from the awful absence of her touch.

“Why is that so impossible?” Amy asked. Even though she was shrouded in shadows, he knew exactly what she looked like from her tone alone. Brows furrowed in confusion, lips slightly parted- lips that he so wanted to feel.

“Amy, you don't like guys like me,” he explained, pushing past the weirdness of him having to explain her own taste in men to her. “You've never liked guys like me.”

“Of course I don't like guys _like_ you. I like _you_.”

She lifted her hand to his cheek and gave him the chastest kiss of his life. While their previous kisses were thrilling and electrifying, this one actually made him... happy.

* * *

 

When they reached her door, Amy had the thought that this could be their moment. She wasn't sure if it was, but she realized she might never be sure. They might never get another moment like this. And even if it wasn't the perfect moment, and a better one would come along, she was so tired of waiting. So she pulled him inside to dance.

* * *

 

Jake had seen her bedroom before, but it was in a whole new context this time. A whole different significance. A whole different future he was waiting on.

Amy had left him sitting on her bed while she went into her bathroom to get ready. She wasn't sure exactly what getting ready would entail- she thought that somehow she should try to prepare herself, but when she got around to it, she didn't know what to do. It occurred to her that there might not be anyway to be ready for it, no way to brace herself- to balance into a sense of stability. But even if there was, Amy wasn't sure she would take it. Everything was in constant fluctuation, she didn't mind not being sure. She didn't want to be able to predict everything that was going to happen, because she loved surprises. And everything with Jake was always a surprise.

She did know one thing, when she looked in the mirror. She wanted to take off all of the makeup covering her face. She wanted to look like Amy Santiago for this, and not whoever she looked like now. So she wiped the paint of her eyelids and the red from her lips and took a deep breath to go and face the future.

She walked out to the vision of Jake mindlessly toeing off his socks only to clip his feet together like a child waiting at the doctor's office. Sometimes he was more adorable than he had any idea of. It would have been dark otherwise, but she left the light in the bathroom on because she wanted a clear view of his face for the rest of the night.

“How do I look?” Amy asked in that same flirty tone she had used earlier that night, even though it seemed ages ago. He looked up at her finally, the utter picture of delight.

“Much better.”

She positioned herself between his legs and when he tried to stand up to meet her she pushed down on his shoulders until he got the message that he was to stay seated. This time, when they kissed, Jake let himself enjoy it. He didn't bother worrying or being distracted by confusion. He just let himself feel her.

He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer into him because as far as he was concerned, they could never be too close. He was never going to tire of biting her lip, or tasting her, or touching her. He trailed his teeth down her throat, pausing to nip and suck and savor all of her sounds. She pulled at the ends of his hair and rocked her hips into his so many times that it became a struggle not to groan with every return of her contact.

Amy wasn't faring much better herself. She tried to be patient so she could stretch the pleasure out, but it was too mild- especially when compared with the rush she was feeling and needed to make a reality. She pulled of his shirt none too gently (really, ripped was the right word) and scored her nails down his chest. It wasn't fair how content he seemed to drag the foreplay out. While it felt amazing, it was more like teasing torture to her.

When she unbuckled his belt she felt the first flash of hesitance from him. Amy placed her hands on his cheeks and lifted his face so she could see it. His eyes were wide and burning with pupils dilated beyond belief. There was still the uncertainty written on his face, from the absolute ridiculous fact he still couldn't see how much she wanted him. How much she'd always wanted him. She gave him a reassuring smile and waited for him to return it before bringing her lips to his ear and murmuring to him.

“I said I wanted to see how your face looked while I sucked you off. Are you going to deny me that?”

Jake only shook his head in response, so she continued the process of shedding him of his jeans and boxers, relieving the pressure his erection was strained against.

There was something so empowering about having Peralta completely naked before her and at her mercy while she was still wearing her skimpy black dress.

She planted sloppy, open mouth kisses along his neck and when her hand gripped him his Adam’s apple bobbed and he (no doubt involuntarily) leaned into her touch. That was all the prompting she needed to make her way down his chest and stomach to what she had been promised.

When she wrapped her lips around him he let out such a drastic huff of air that it sounded more like he had just been punched in the solar plexus and had the wind knocked out of him. Amy swirled her tongue at his tip as she glided her hand down the rest of him, back and forth, and the face he made was the hottest thing she'd ever seen.

She loved the way his face contorted, how his brow furrowed and his lips were parted in a slack jaw pant. His hands were balled up in her hair like he needing something concrete, something real, to anchor him down. The only thing she didn't like was that his eyes were screwed shut.

She wanted him to open his eyes, and to look at her.

Jake could hardly believe what was happening, but it was the best thing to happen to him in his life. He had to fight the urge to thrust into her because she was so wet and warm and amazing around him. She was amazing. She was Amy. This was Amy. This was actually Amy. Amy Amy Amy Amy Amy.

“Amy,” he moaned after maybe the 9th or 10th time he said it in his head. Jake literally whined when her mouth left him.

“I like that,” she told him simply. “Say it again.”

And he could hardly even think at that moment, so he had no idea what she was talking about. But he wanted to do whatever she wanted. He was desperate for her.

“My name,” she clarified once she saw the confusion in his eyes.

“Amy,” he complied, just pleading with that one simple word. She returned to him and took him even deeper, nearly making him choke, but that wasn't even the best part. Now that he was looking at her, he couldn't look away. Her staring up at him with those big, gorgeous brown eyes- wide and eager- was almost enough to make him come undone.

And there was the same whine again when her lips left him.

“Again,” she ordered.

“Amy.”

She returned to him again, but it was all too soon that she pulled back and repeated her order, and he obeyed.

That time though, he repeated it over and over again like a chant, smartly concluding that the only surefire way to keep her mouth on his cock was to never stop saying her name. She drew the supplication from his lips, each rendition of his prayer with the same three letters was like she was hearing it for the first time. Each refrain was different, traveling down with him mirroring his desperation. His taste was of the holiest communion. Even though he was saying it right and hadn't devolved into full out moans (yet) it didn't even sound like a word anymore, much less her name. So she focused on the tone of his voice, all of that want and need for her. She knew she was being torturous and holding back, but he was being a good boy, so she decided to reward him and let him come- even if he had stopped saying her name by that time since his voice gave out, leaving him to mouth it over and over again.

Amy took him as deep as she could, using her lips and tongue to the best of her advantage. She hummed and bobbed on him as she twisted her hand around his base, and when she felt him twitching she only increased her efforts until he released and she swallowed all he had to offer before licking him clean.

When she returned her attention back to him she was greeted with the sight of his hand dragging down his face while he mumbled curse words in between heavy breaths.

“You like that?” She smirked.

“ _Fuck_ , Amy.” He said in a way that gave her no choice but to take it as a yes.

“Need to catch your breath?”

“I know you're joking, but I really do,” Jake confessed, and she couldn't help but smile sweetly. But that smile soon turned mischievous.

“Too bad,” she told him as she captured his lips with hers.

Despite her words, she made the kiss slow and sensuous so he would at least have some hope of calming his breathing through his nose. Even so she licked his lips and slipped her tongue into his mouth so he would be able to taste himself on her.

Thank god it didn't take him long to get out of the delicious state she had put him in and he was back to feeling her with fervor.

* * *

 

Amy felt so hot and warm in his hands, but most of all she felt real. Solid, concrete, and stable- she was really there with him now and she wasn't going anywhere.

Sometimes when he was touching Amy, it felt like she was going to disappear. Like at any moment she would slip from his grasp. She was always pulling away and Jake could never hold on tight enough, no matter how hard he tried. Whenever he would get close, he'd lose her again.

He could never keep hold of her hand.

But now he had her hands, and her lips, and her skin all to himself. He had her hair that she never let down enough, and the taste of the sweat beading on her neck, and the moans coming from the back of her throat. She was finally falling into him instead of away from him.

She was taking and taking, and he would give her everything. Jake would give her anything if only she would stay.

“Jake, _please_ ,” Amy whined as she grinded further into him in her straddling position. He was dragging it out and drinking her in while she was just so impatient. He knew he was tormenting her, but he was taking far too much pleasure in seeing how much rawer he could make her voice.

She kept trying to tug off her dress, but every time she did he would cover her hands to stop her, then place them up in his hair to redirect her urgent tugging to his roots. And every time her fingers would drift down so she could use her nails to carve into his neck with all the strength she could manage. She was trying to hurt him. She thought she was punishing him with pain. But really he found the pangs of pleasure more encouraging than anything else.

It did hurt, though. A lot. Amy was trying her best and lost her grip on his skin so many times that he wasn't sure where the lacerations ended or began. She had accomplished her goal, it was painful and it stung. And Jake found that stinging enticing.

Soon Amy started to drag his hands to where she wanted him, and once there he'd give her two strokes at most than move back to her non-erogenous zones like her neck, back, and lower legs and kept his lips traveling from her throat to her collarbone and back again. Eventually she was so frustrated she resorted to touching herself, and again her hands would get the same treatment as with the dress.

“Ask me one more time.”

“ _ **Please**_ _. Please. Please, I can't take it anymore_ ,” she practically sobbed. His hand hadn't even been at her zipper for a second when she got tired of his lazy pace and grabbed his hand and yanked it down so hard and fast that there was a loud and unmistakeable rip. She tore off her dress (even though he would have liked to have the honor) and pressed her lips to his with such force that it was almost painful. Actually, it was definitely painful. But it was the heavenly kind of painful that he would never get enough of.

She wasn't wearing a bra which probably worked out for the best since Jake was sure to struggle with it, and he knew given the chance he would stare at her all day. She had on these cute little blue boy shorts because of course Santiago wasn't the lace kind of girl, which was more than fine by him because it just made it easier to see how wet she was. But even that was soon discarded on the floor so he could really look at her.

Amy was by far the best thing he had ever seen. Every part of her was pure perfection.

He could go to a museum and point out each and everything there that looked like scribbles compared to her. Because no matter who tried- how much paint they wasted, how much paper they burned through, or how long they spent- they were never going to get her right. All of those master artists could try all of the techniques they were taught, their watercolor wash, use their steady hands to shade her silhouette to dusk, but they were never going to come close.

No matter how much ink they spilled trying to trace her contours and slopes, they wouldn't be able to recreate her coffee stained skin. The midnight streaks of the hills and valleys across the canvas of her body. The shadows that fell on her cheek and down her neck, the curve of her waist, the contrast the shining from the next room provided- light to dark.

No one could capture the look on her face.

This girl was a work of art.

If he had to pick between Amy and breathing he wouldn't even have to think about it.

He loved her. He really did.

Jake knew she was waiting for him, but he had something important he needed to tell her, so he kissed her as soft and sweet as he could manage before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

“You're so beautiful. And every other word that means pretty and sexy and gorgeous, and I know you have half of the dictionary memorized but it would take all of it to be able to describe you. And maybe one day I'll find a word that means just how _you_ you are, but right now you're stuck with beautiful. I love you.”

Amy was about to say something, though she didn't know what because that was literally the best thing that had ever been said to her in her life, but before she could even breathe his hand was between her legs and she couldn't get the words out. She wanted to say she loved him too.

“You're always this wet for me, aren't you?” Jake goaded her, though it was clear from his smug tone that he already knew the answer. She was already overworked and over sensitive from all his teasing earlier so when his fingers slipped between her all she could think was _finally_. She couldn't focus on how much she loved him, or really anything other than how good his touch felt. But it soon became apparent that he was _still_ teasing her, only tracing circles _around_ her clit and wouldn't even dip a finger into her- and he was just as maddening and infuriating as always. Amy tried to shift and angle her hips to get him closer to where she needed him, but his hand was too quick and ever adjusting.

“Answer me,” he ordered gruffly.

“Yes. Fuck yes. Always,” she heaved, and each exhale ended in a whine. It was almost impressive how quickly he could go from saying the sweetest thing she'd ever heard to one of the dirtiest. But she refused to be impressed when he was still torturing her the way he was.

“Tell me about it. When you think of me.”

Amy didn't think she could get out anything but moans by that point, but simple sounds weren't enough for him.

“Now,” he growled before moving his lips to decorate her ribcage with hickeys. She was torn between wanting to see how he would reward her if she listened to him or how he would punish her if she disobeyed him. But she really couldn't wait anymore by that point.

“At work. All the time. I think about you. And I wanna touch myself. But I don't because if I let myself do it all the times I wanted to I'd be in the bathroom all day. But I'm-” she broke off with a gasp when he took a nipple in his mouth and he finally gave her clit the attention it deserved. “But I'm... soaked just thinking about it. About you. But I don't really want to touch myself. I want you to touch me. I want you to rough me up, Jake. I know you'd be good at it. I want you to bite me,” and after those words he bit her neck so hard she couldn't help but cry out and finish with a moan that came from deep within her chest. “And bruise me. I want you to pound me until it hurts and I'm sore for the week.”

Amy had never been one for dirty talk, but it was so hot when he was coercing it out of her. And once she got started she thought she was a little good at it, and rather fond of it.

Jake shifted himself downward so he could place kisses up the inside of her legs and she didn't think she could live with anymore anticipation.

“I wanna feel your cock inside of me. And I'd been dying to know how your come tasted for so long. And I wanna lick myself off your lips.”

The sudden way he dug his teeth into the flesh of her thigh was so harsh and unforgiving that her whole body clenched as she keened. The jolt of pain and the sharp satisfaction of his tongue on her clit sent electricity coursing through her and she'd never felt anything so fully and intensely in her life. He rubbed his bite mark into her leg with his thumb and the tender ache just made her feel alive. Amy was already pulsing for him. Her whole body was on fire.

“Jake... Jake... Jake,” she begged as she lifted her hips to meet him and tried to get the friction he refused to give her. “Fuck, Jake. Please. Please. Harder. Please. Please,” she breathed into whimpers because he was being so fucking gentle and delicate that she was going to collapse if she stuck _this close_ for any more longer.

Jake hummed into her before pressing her hips back into the bed and hastily pushing two calloused fingers inside her. _This_ was it. The flicks of his tongue went from soft and careful to wild and reckless, while his fingers crooked and curled into her- alternating between a slow drag out of her and returning to rashly drive back into her.

Amy didn't think there was a word for all of the sounds she was making. Her choked out moans mixed into murmurs and gasps and sighs as she panted. She couldn't even breathe without some sound from her vocal cords attaching to her inhales and exhales.

It was about damn time when she shuddered through her orgasm and she really had to fight to not clamp her thighs around his head. Jake gave her a moment of respite as he kissed along her hip bones and ran his hands down her legs and up her sides as she tried to stop heaving. But soon his mouth was back between her legs and she didn't even have a chance of catching her breath. She was so sensitive that it was a miracle he was going easy on her this time because anything more would have been unbearable. His tongue was soft and cautious with her and she realized what his goal was- he wasn't going to stop until she was screaming.

While she did have to deal with cramps as a girl, the quick succession of multiple orgasms was definitely a perk. While Peralta had to wait. Technically she had to wait too to feel his cock in her, but his mouth and hands were more than enough in the meantime.

And it didn't seem like it would take long for him to get what he wanted since she was already geared up and back to grinding into him. This time when she came it was followed by a cross between a moan and a shout that only ended when she ran out of breath.

When Amy opened her eyes he was back up with her, his lips hovering not even an inch above hers in wait. It took her a moment to realize what he was offering, but when she did she wasted no time in pulling him closer to greedily suck the taste of her come off of him. When she was finally satisfied he kissed up and down her throat to give her room to breathe.

“You... you didn't give me... time. To say it,” she puffed in what was her best attempt at indignation, but sounded much closer to gratitude.

“Hmmm?”

“You didn't give me a chance to say... I love you... too. I love you too.”

Jake didn't even try to hide how happy hearing those words made him. He didn't try to hide that her saying that meant more to him than everything that happened that night, that it meant more to him than anything had in his life. He gave her a giddy smile and kissed her again, because he was never going to get tired of kissing her.

“Good.”

“Good?” Amy chuckled.

“Really, _really_ good,” he confirmed.

And then they were laughing together. They didn't know who laughed first, but it didn't matter. And good really was the right word. There was nothing wrong, nothing bad, no mistakes, and no regrets. It was just truly and utterly good.

They probably could have laughed like that for hours, if only Amy didn't suddenly rock her hips up into his and he had to stifle a groan.

“Up for some more? I've been waiting,” She lilted with a playful bite to her lip.

God was he ready. He was so hard for her, to be inside her. How could he not be? When she was making all of those sounds for him? It was way too satisfying to feel her tense with every attempt he gave to make her sore. But fuck, he wanted to mark her. He wanted everyone to know that Amy Santiago was _his_. He wanted to look down and see all of the evidence he had left from the last round each and every time he fucked her.

And she gave him permission. She had begged him for bruises and pleaded for bites.

And he wanted the sweetness. He was looking forward to the chaste kisses that he was never going to get tired of.

But Jake also wanted to feel the carves she left tomorrow. He hoped they hurt more by then. He wanted to be reminded of her every time he turned his head and to feel the sting of her scars on his shoulder blades every time he reached for something the next few days.

He wanted to repeat the damage over and over so the physical memories Amy left on him would be constant. Though it wasn't as if he was in danger of forgetting this anytime soon.

“Hey,” Amy whispered and reached a hand up to his cheek. He had to blink a couple of times to even bring her eyes back into focus.

There really wasn't a word for the color of her eyes. Copper, chestnut, bronze- nothing worked. He would probably have to make a word up for it.

But until then he could just say everything he saw in them.

The universe could pass by and he wouldn't even notice if he was looking at her.

The stars could fade into the sky, collapse and start again- the whole world could end and Jake wouldn't be able to look away even if he wanted too.

Amy had galaxy eyes. Even if there wasn't a name for the color, you didn't need shades to see the constellations.

The only thing he needed to see was the light in her eyes.

“Are you alright? You ready?” She asked with compassion and concern etched into her features.

“Better than alright. More than ready,” he informed her before kissing her softly. “You're so, so beautiful.”

Amy pulled his head back down to hers to what he expected to be another kiss, but instead she just bit down hard and quick and sent a jolt through him that ended with him jerking his hips to hers. Jake wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to being yanked from those sincere moments and back into the desperate ones so quickly.

Forget the universe. Staring at Amy was actually able to take his mind off how his cock literally _ached_ to be inside her.

But it was impossible to ignore when she was grinding into him.

“Feel ready to me,” she taunted as she rubbed their hips together at an agonizing pace.

Jake had just had the cutest look on his face and she felt a little bad for ruining it, but she couldn't take it anymore. She needed him and it was too tantalizing to feel him pressed up against her and _ready_. So she drew his attention back to the problem at hand and he lost the cute look and replaced it with the 'I'm dying to fuck you look' he'd worn for most of the night.

And he didn't offer any protests when she guided him into her and wrapped her legs around his hips to take full responsibility of helping him in at a comfortable pace for her adjustment.

Or at least, that was the plan. She had only gotten a few seconds into it when he thrusted and buried himself in her. Amy hissed at the sudden stretch before Jake leaned down and whispered two words in her ear.

“ _Hurt me.”_

And that was all the cue she needed.

Those two words were all she needed to hear before latching onto his arms and clamping her teeth at the point where his neck met his shoulder and waiting for the burn to subside. Then he waited. For her cue and her signal.

It wasn't until she pushed back into him and lapped at her bite mark that he started rocking into her, but he was back to slow and gentle and she wasn't having any of that.

“C'mon, Jake. Faster. I know you can do better. _Please_.”

Amy cursed herself a moment later for even mentioning it because of course Jake slowed down when he heard her request, but he at least dropped the gentle part. Because while he was going tantalizingly slow, he focused the better control he had on going _hard_.

When he was teasing her with the wait Jake thumbed her clit, and pressed down with every resolute slam into her. She knew it was coming every time, but she still gasped every time. He was hitting right where he needed to every time but she just needed a little more speed that he refused to give her. Every thrust that hit her G spot felt like it was going to push her from teetering over the edge, but there was too much time between one thrust and the next, and she fell too far down during the wait. And she was sure Jake knew that. He knew what he was doing to her, and he was doing it on purpose.

“You wanna hear about all the times I've thought about fucking you?” He asked in a voice far past merely obscene. Amy was pretty sure he would have told her either way, but she murmured her assent just in case. She wanted to hear every word that came out of his mouth, but if it was about his fantasies of her she was definitely listening.

“Every single day for god knows how long,” he punctuated it with another one of his forceful thrusts and she cried out. “I want to ruin you for anyone but me.” Another slam of his hips was met with a keen. “I know that's not possible, but fuck, Amy, I wanna try. I know there's nothing I can do to keep you,” he confessed and picked up the pace with every word, but still held up that same rough force. “I know that's selfish. Because I love you and I want you to be happy. I really do. But I'd do fucking anything just to open up the possibility that you could ever be happy with me.”

Amy swore he planned this. He had made a pattern that night of saying all these things that she wanted to immediately respond to, but he never let her. Because now he was pounding into her and it was just another thing she could cross of her bucket list: _see Jake's face as he fucks me senselessly._

She didn't know how he could still think that it was possible for her to be happy _without_ him. She couldn't believe he still thought he even had to try to get her to stay. They only thing he needed to do for her to stay was to let her.

He was the one who left her swaying and waiting in the middle of the dance floor. She was the only one with the right to ask what she needed to do to keep him. _Amy_ was the one who would do anything so he would stop running away.

Fuck, she wanted to keep him. She was so tired of him getting so close and then just wrenching away from her grasp. She decided from that moment on she was never going to let go of him again.

When her fingers were scrambling for purchase on his skin as he rammed into her she decided this. When his thrusts grew erratic and she was pushed over the edge into cascading and quivering around him it cemented this.

When he bit her shoulder and pulled her closer when he came in her she was absolutely certain.

She was never going to let go of Jake Peralta ever again.

And they stayed together suspended in time for a moment as they held their breaths and held each other.

Jake was the first one to break free and be in motion again, kissing up and down her neck and back and forth again until Amy started to move too. They somehow managed to stand breaking apart and laid down to face the ceiling.

Of course when Jake's back hit the sheets he immediately turned to his side to escape the burn of the open skin on his back when it was touched by anything but air. Amy was still staring at the ceiling and he wished more than anything that she would turn and face him so he could see her eyes.

“Let's go dancing,” Amy said suddenly.

“Like at a club?” He asked, not even attempting to hide how perplexed he was by her out of nowhere suggestion.

“No, like one with actual steps and moves.”

“You're a horrible dancer,” he chuckled, but she took his lighthearted teasing as something more.

“I know. Will you go with me or not?” Amy snapped.

She didn't mean to. She didn't mean to ask the dancing question in the first place. The only reason it was on her mind was the stupid dancing thing she always compared her and Jake's relationship to. And that was a stupid reason to want to go dancing. Right before she asked the question she thought of what it would actually be like to go dancing with Jake- and she realized that she wanted to try it.

“Sorry. I didn't know you were serious.”

She turned to him then (cause she missed his face) and she felt even worse for snapping. He had a look of slight surprise and complete sincerity that made her feel incredibly guilty.

And it didn't help her feel better when he trailed a hand across her cheek and sent shivers down her spine when she looked into his way too earnest eyes.

“I'll go wherever you wanna go, Ames,” he marveled.

And no, his reaction didn't help her feel better- but only for snapping. His reaction made every other part of her feel like she was flying.

She smiled and laid her hand over the one resting on her cheek and let her eyes flutter to a close.

“I didn't know you were the dancing kind of gal,” Jake mused, and she just smiled wider.

“I'm not. Never was. I never even wanted to try it until I met you. And I am a horrible dancer, and I know I'm going to suck at it, but if I tell you the real reason you're gonna laugh.”

“While that may be true I can promise I'll try really hard not to. And I really want to know.”

“It was just this stupid thing I kept thinking,” she sighed rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand, eyes still shut. “It was really lame. Like I kept thinking of it as a dancing metaphor. When I thought you weren't ready and when you thought it was impossible for me to like you. I told you it was stupid. I don't know why I even asked. I'm not even sure if I actually want to.”

“I'm honestly not surprised that you have a _metaphor_ for us. That is pretty lame. But I don't care if you want to or not, because I want to. I want to go dancing with you.”

When she opened her eyes to look into his she was upset that she didn't know enough words to describe _his_. Despite his claim, saying she knew half of the dictionary was exaggerating. Amy did pride herself on her good vocabulary, but it wasn't good enough for Jake.

When he had said it he made it sound like all of his frustration with colors couldn't be applied to his brown eyes either. They were a wonder of their own when he was looking at her like that. When he was looking at her like she really was all of the things he said she was. When he was looking at her liked he loved her.

“I'm not just saying that because you said it. That I love you,” Amy expressed because she didn't want there to be any room for doubt. “I mean it. It wasn't just cause... in the middle of it all. And I don't know how to say nice things like you do. But when I say I love you... I really, really mean it.”

“I know. And I mean it too.”

Amy was sure he was going to say something more, but she placed her hand on the back of his neck and he flinched and hissed at the contact. She wasn't sure what was wrong until she remembered that his reaction was because of _her_.

“Oh god, that was my fault, wasn't it? Let me see.”

“I'm fine, Ames. Don't worry about it.”

“Turn around and let me see. Now,” she insisted. He sighed in response but followed her orders and laid on his stomach so she could see, and she actually gasped.

All over his neck, shoulders, and upper back were scratches. Scratch wasn't even the right word, because scratches usually meant thin and shallow marks. What she gave him was better described using words like scrape, abrasion, and gash. It didn't look like a sex thing, it looked like he was _wounded_. He literally looked like he was attacked by a wild animal.

“Oh my god, Jake! I'm so, so sorry!”

“Don't be. I like it.”

“It looks like you were mauled! It's too dark to tell but I think you were bleeding at some point. I can't even tell if you're still bleeding.”

“Hot,” he replied flippantly. It was good he wasn't mad or anything, but Amy felt horrible and he was just joking around.

“Jake, I'm being serious!”

“So am I,” he said, and his tone was actually somber enough for the situation. “I don't bruise easy, so scratches are all I've got. And when these fade I want more. So don't be sorry.”

It was a little hypocritical because she wanted bruises from him, but bruises weren't actually bloody. Well, technically bruises involved blood, but they never looked this bad. They didn't look like actual injuries.

Part of the reason she liked them was the pain, but she also liked the mark of him being imprinted on her skin. So it wasn't fair that she wanted to deny him the same thing.

And it was such a turn on when she was taking all of her frustrations out on him. And at the moment looking at what she had done she felt this sort of possessive pride. She felt guilty for how hot she found the marks and how arousing it was to see how much she had hurt him.

The hypocritical part was that she hoped he felt the same when he looked at what was left of his bites on her tomorrow (minus the guilt part). Amy had just never been this... violent before.

And she was thrilled he wanted her to do it again.

“If you like it so much than you should have no problem buying me new sheets if there's even a drop of blood on them tomorrow.”

“Agreed. And I'll pay for the next two sets. But after that we're gonna have to work out a schedule cause I know you loved doing that to me. Don't even try to hide it.”

He turned back on his side and kissed her sweetly and she loved every second of it.

“I don't know how I managed to forget how exhausted I was before I got in your car,” Amy sighed before actually yawning naturally instead of faking it for emphasis.

They weren't even half a foot apart, but Jake felt it was far too much distance between them. He was about to do something about it when Amy spoke.

“Can I?”

Her question was tentative when she looked down at his chest and back up to him. Jake didn't know what she meant by it until he realized she wanted to move closer, and like cuddle or something. At the realization his face immediately softened (not that it was even hardened to begin with).

“You don't have to ask,” he informed her and pulled her to him.

It was nice being together. Finally, nice and warm while wrapped in each others arms.

They were both looking forward to tomorrow. Looking forward to all of the late nights, and kisses, and I love you's that were coming in the future.

And they were both looking forward to dancing lessons.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lovely line from I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers
> 
> Okay, so I worked super hard on this and hopefully you guys will understand why I haven't been updating my other fics as much cause I've been typing this one out.  
> Tell me if my hard work paid off and it might encourage me to make some more smutty stuff (yes, I am fishing for compliments).  
> And I read another fic on here that was explicit and the author said something along the lines of 'Tell me if you masturbate to this, and I'll use your orgasms to judge the success of this fic' and I laughed so hard at that line and I'm totally using it. I commented on that fic and told them I had a really great orgasm but I can't even find it to give credit for the line because I can't find a way to look through all of my past comments (and I'm not sure if it was an E or an M fic, so I gave up after so many ctrl f's). And I tried, I really tried. So if that was you or you know who said that brilliant line than let me know so I can put your/their username here.  
> So yes, I want to hear about your orgasms.
> 
> And goddamn me and my symbolism, I'm so sorry about it. I couldn't keep it out. Frickin' dancing and space.  
> And what is the deal with describing brown eyes? Though green eyes are never actually emerald. I have blue myself and ocean and sky are overexaggerating too.  
> But at least those are nice sounding. Like with brown you've gotta go with coffee or chocolate because mud and tree bark are way worse. Coffee isn't so bad, but I definitely don't like the word chocolate being used to describe eyes.  
> Because brown eyes are gorgeous and can convey that warmness and beauty and light so easily. So there really should be a word that fits just how amazing they can be.  
> Let me know if I did brown eyes justice. I've noticed it before and I know others have too- that brown eyes are unfairly left out in literary descriptions, so I gave it my best shot.
> 
> International readers- you don't apply here.  
> I'm not the only American female who despises the word panties, right?  
> It's awful. I don't know why I hate it so much, but I do. I've heard I'm not alone, but I just don't know. Like why can't we make a new word?  
> I hate panties more than I hate the word moist. Panties makes me cringe.  
> In everyday language the things that cover up girly-bits I refer to as bras and underwear.  
> Not panties, that shit is underwear.  
> But underwear isn't exactly the hottest written word.
> 
> Do international readers have the same problem with knickers?  
> I'm not happy with how many times I had to say that word over in my head as I was typing this. Ugh.
> 
> So hopefully I didn't turn you off with my underwear rant.
> 
> So if you wanna leave a comment on how much you appreciated this then by all means. Tell me I'm pretty.  
> And oh my gosh the best thing in the world is when people comment with their favorite parts/lines and I will literally squeal if any of you do that.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed!
> 
> Edit: The lovely Calypso found the fic that the author put that hilarious line in the note about orgasms in the end.  
> What if we love like fools by LaurytheLatrator  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1300591
> 
> Thanks for that Calypso, I really appreciate it.


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